Ravager
by Dr. Abraxas
Summary: Naraku gives Hojo a power mortals were not meant to know. Hojo uses that power to express his love for his very special guy. Who could it be? Set after episode 128. sick and twisted alert!


"Ravager" by Abraxas (05-07-25)

It was a cold, rainy afternoon when Inuyasha and Kagome arrived at the Higurashi temple – they had walked together from her school to her home, she holding an umbrella, he standing unprotected, arms folded within his red, haori jacket, face down and covered by his wet, soaking hair. Now, back in the quiet comfort of the home, she lay the umbrella upright next to her shoes, he set his overcoat against a chair. Curiously enough, the fire-rat cloak was largely dry already; the rest of his outfit, too, fit snug and warm clung onto his body in the most comfortable manner. It was unusual, strange even, but the dog-demon scarcely took notice of the effect: his clothes, like his body, just worked differently from, say, human clothes and bodies.

He was home, more or less, and though he was impatient to return to his own time, he was happy – rather, he was as happy as allowed himself to be. He was content to see her in her element, to know she was safe, just to be around her. Maybe one day he would let his guard down enough to tell her. Maybe.

"Hmmm," said Kagome as she stifled a yawn. "They said Hojo's been out of school for a whole month."

"Hojo?" Inuyasha recalled the name. _Wasn't that the boy, the one leaving her gifts, the one trying to date her, whatever that means,_ he wondered.

"He'd always send me the weirdest stuff whenever grandpa told him I was sick." Again she stifled a yawn. Why did she feel so weak and depressed lately? It was as if a bad air clung to the world about her. "The strangest stuff. I wonder if he's sick –"

"Feh, _weak humans_."

"_Dumb hanyous._"

She stopped his growl with a playful hug, squeezing him tightly against her.

All of a sudden Inuyasha shrugged, his clothes feeling wet and clammy.

The doorbell, the knock, and the teenager answered the call of her friends. The half-demon ran into the kitchen and hid under the table. Indoors he did not cover his non-human heritage. And, in general, he was afraid of Kagome's friends, their curiosity toward him. From his spot beneath sight, within shadows, he heard high-pitched, female voices going on and on. And he rolled his eyes, shook his head. But why was Kagome asking about Hojo? Was she worried? Why would she be worried?

Inuyasha froze – it was just Kagome coming into the kitchen.

"Tell mom I'm going to the movies with the girls, ok?"

It seemed she knew where he was hiding.

"Don't forget, ok," she said, stroking his hair.

He grunted; she left.

With a lot of ruckus, Kagome and her girlfriends rushed out of the house into the tempest, umbrellas in tow. A blanket of calm, tranquility, like an envelope of cotton, enveloped the temple. Certain he was alone, but unsure if indeed that was true, he let a few more moments pass until he peeked out through the doorway of the kitchen. Yes, they were gone, all of them, gone and let out a whimper of relief.

He returned to the living room. Everything seemed to be normal – and then he noticed a bundle of wet documents lain atop a table by the door. It had not been there when they returned to the house from the school. He examined the papers – _Ah, it's what they call their mail_, he said almost aloud. He tossed the envelopes aside and watched them careen across the sofa's dry, unsettled upholstery.

With a sigh he sunk himself into the cushions, bored, tired, lonely and bored.

An object rolled off of the sofa on to his feet. It appeared to hug his flesh – _no_ – it appeared to want to hug his flesh. He blinked at the sight. With a clawed-hand he reached it, picked it. A tightly-wrapped, paper scroll, it was addressed to – and he blinked again reading the queer wording, recalling the strangeness of the whole affair – "to Kagome, or to whomever these documents touch."

Its scent was faint but familiar.

Tearing it open, he unrolled the pages and read:

"Don't worry, it's just me, Hojo. But damn it, you must be looking at this and saying it's bizarre. And you'd be right, of course. _It is bizarre._ Weird, unusual. I'm sorry, Kagome, but I can't help it. A queer confession for a queer crime – at the end, it fits, doesn't it?

"Kagome, you're the only one who can help me! Please, read this until the end, until the very, last syllable. Only then will you understand why. Let alone, understand _my situation._ I'd come to you, face to face, but I fear what your reaction will be. Really, you don't know me well but well-enough to know that, face to face, I stutter, my words are tortured and slow and, in general, I'm just not good at expressing myself. I give the wrong signals and mistaken impressions. And it's important, really, truly important, that you understand me exactly. Because what I'm going to tell you will resemble lunacy.

"I have a lover and he – yes, it is another boy – and he does not notice me and until you tell him he will never notice me. How would he notice me? Didn't I pick the strangest way to express my affection! He wouldn't notice my affection anymore than he'd notice how well his clothes fit. How comfortable his outfit became. How his clothes wrap about his body, enveloping his shape and form so effortlessly. How their fabrics keep him dry and warm. Keep the cold, harsh winds away. Glide and flow with his every, slightest movement. How would he, indeed _anyone_, notice such a thing and by extension the care and caress of it all? No, and it's well that he doesn't because he is so well-loved. His clothes, so hugged, so tucked, fit like another skin – _my skin_ – over his own. And by analogy so have we become in my mind _one person._

"Were I a failure, shrank, tugged, chaffed his body, rubbed his skin red, raw, in anyway ruin the comfort, that he would have noticed.

"Such as it is, I make love to him anonymously. Across the distance, I grope him. Through the shadows, I fondle him. Even his personal, private parts I molest. He cannot fathom that my hands literally massage his chest, embrace his waist, cradle his genitals. I give him the subtlest, most intimate pleasures and he does not notice or know or suspect that I am the cause.

"Oh, what a pathetic life I've come to live, knowing so well the secrets of that boy that I crave like I crave air and food and water!

"You must have been told that I have been absent for a long time. A month, I believe, a month. Yes. In the darkness time losses its meaning. It's a late development that goes to show how my obsession grows and consumes me. Know that I am not sick, not physically, I am very much alive and well. And my body lies inside my basement, but my mind, as you're about to discover, lies somewhere else entirely.

"That confuses anyone who reads it. Damn it! Even on paper I can't express myself too well. Alright, alright.

"What's happened is the result of an ordeal – a misadventure, if you will – that I trace back to one, particular incident. It happened right after that school play in which you and I were on stage together. Well, two things happened that day, the first might be obvious but it's the second that sheds light on the disease that afflicts my mind. You see, as I was walking home, I got the distinct impression I was being followed. I stopped often; I looked around all of the time but, of course, there was nothing there. Nothing to it. But, still, that impression did not leave me. And I let myself get so distracted by the sensation of it that I got myself lost amid the streets of Tokyo.

"But, Kagome, it wasn't so much that I got myself lost, no, it was that I let myself be led astray, away into a part of the city unfamiliar to me. I was being directed by a power that was playing with my instincts. Every time I felt like turning back, taking a turn here, there – doing anything other than passing through the course I was supposed to follow – I felt a sudden, surge of terror the like of which I never knew existed in the human brain. It simply wasn't a sensation native to my mortal mind. So, what could I do? So, I moved where the sense of dread seemed to be less severe, less threatening.

"Eventually, my adventure ended at the doors of a house that, I must say, I have never seen before or since. A shroud of vapor, like fog, surrounded the abode and though it did not seem like a dangerous, smog-like miasma, I knew almost by instinct that it was unnatural and lethal. It was the lure of clean air that impelled me to enter the house unannounced though, I have to believe, not unexpected. Within the place was dark and damp. To my left were the stairs to unseen, upper portions; to my right was the chamber I took to be the living room. Without even taking off my shoes – how rude! – I tiptoed into the room. It was unadorned and Spartan, sprawling from a slant of light to a realm of shadow. And I saw something emerging out of nothing. It gave the suggestion of a face, a body. Gradually, as my eyes adjusted to the gloomy condition, I realized that indeed it was a face, a beautiful face, an attractive face, of a man with bluish, violet makeup about his wide, almond eyes. Red eyes. Long, black hair, tied in the manner of an old, feudal lord. His clothes were old, too, like a samurai's but all black, gray."

"Naraku!" Inuyasha shouted, walking past Souta – who only then returned from school – and ascending the stairs into Kagome's room.

"He was sitting on the floor by the windows, looking so sad, so longing – and he was so beautiful! – I could not help but be drawn to the figure. I lost my sense of better judgment to my base and carnal arousal. I sat before that man, whose name I never learned, and – and I don't remember what happened next. I don't recall another thing after that moment, after that instant.

"Except a sense of choking. As if the miasma outside seeped inside and I was overcome by the fumes.

"The next thing I do remember is reaching the door of my house, opening and going into my room.

"That day, that event, marked the change."

"What did you do, Naraku?" The dog-demon sighed. He rubbed his eyes and returned his attention to the hand-written pages.

"Tell me. You think it's the strangest thing ever and you wonder why I'm telling you. But, if you are to understand and help, it's important that you know everything about the transformation.

"It came immediately after that incident with the house and the man. Sitting in my bed, having just washed myself thoroughly, I kept my eyes fixed upon the window. I fell into a kind of sleep, except that from the start I had this image in my head that would not go away. I kept seeing the window. And as I did so, it seemed that though I was on the bed my vision of the window was growing larger _as if I were moving closer toward it_. Its pane filled up more and more of my view until everything I saw was through the window itself. Fully fixated at the world beyond my bedroom – the night, dark and shadowy – sensations, new and different, began to fill my body. At once, I felt cold and warm. I felt myself shaking as if something pushed at me from one side and something else restrained me from another side. Indeed, I was more or less constrained and I couldn't move at all. But I could focus and unfocus my vision. And I could change my point of view. Suddenly, I wasn't looking out of the window anymore, I was looking into my room. I was watching myself asleep atop the bed. I saw everything. Everything.

"I don't recall waking up, per se, just that I was overwhelmed by light and my eyes opened and I was back within my body again.

"At school I found myself to be distracted and by things that not only did I always ignore but that I never, ever, not even once, took notice of. Every time I stared at an object, my vision was altered as if I were a bug attached onto it, looking through it out into the world. As time passed that power of projected perception strengthened. I started to feel – taste, smell – and it dawned on me, I wasn't just seeing through the perspective of other objects, somehow someway, my mind melded with and became part of those objects. I looked at books and I knew what was written over every page and who was reading it, touching it. I looked at pencils and I knew what their users were writing. Tables, chairs: I felt the warmth of the bodies sitting on them, using them.

"That man-creature, whatever it was, awoke in me a power I could've scarcely imagined was possible. And as fantastical as it might appear to be, it is. Kagome, you must believe me.

"Of course, I quickly discovered limitations. I found that I couldn't be living things. And that I couldn't project myself at will any where, any time, but I could jump from object to object as long as they were nearby each other. And once I traveled into an object it was possible to go directly to it, provided it existed still and had not been destroyed.

"I experimented.

"When I became books, I felt pain when people creased my pages, wrote within me. Tore me, abused me. When I became pencils, I screamed, often aloud, and was shaken back into my body when people sharpened me or broke my point even used my eraser. I learned to enter objects that could not be so easily damaged: like tables and chairs, for example. Chairs were my favorites and I learned, by keenly training my mind, that I did not have to go fully into catatonic states to feel everything the objects felt: by passing glances I was able to retain as much of my consciousness as possible and interact directly with my body with the world.

"In the gym, in the lockers while I chatted with my friends, I transferred parts of my mind into the benches and felt-up the exposed flesh of the cute boys. I felt the warmth and sweat of their naked flesh and everything else you can imagine a chair would feel. All of those private, intimate parts that we never think twice about letting inanimate objects grope.

"Can you imagine the pleasures felt by the things we put the closest to our bodies? When a boy leaned against a wall, can you imagine what I felt, as if the wall were like a hand, stroking his back? When he lay on the ground, on the floor, can you image what contours I felt, the warm, secret parts between his legs? Can you imagine these things? I don't have to imagine, Kagome, I know! And though I couldn't interact yet – I could feel only – it was enough to keep me aroused for days.

"Weak human that I am it was not enough! I needed more, I craved more!

"Yes, Kagome, I go back to the day, back to the first thing that happened.

"Indeed, there was something I wanted. Something gorgeous, beautiful. Something that captured my heart the moment I saw it.

"I was in love with him and when I realized the true nature of my new-found powers I could not stop thinking about him. I suspected I knew where he was and through careful, controlled object-jumping I was determined to find him and love him as only I could love him.

"And one day, when I was feeling exceptionally attuned _I found him_.

"I saw him, again, in his underwear. Oh, Kagome, can't you guess? Can't you see what I did? I transferred my mind into that precious, enviable loincloth! I became the very thing he kept right up against his private parts! By the gods, who could have imagined such a thing to be possible! And can you understand what it was like for me? To feel the warmth, the flesh snug between his cheeks, his legs. To feel the bulge and contours of his genitals rubbing against me, everywhere against me. Everywhere. To feel his skin, all over, all of it, naked and smooth. I smiled and gave into the sensations overwhelming my mind.

"And I could see, not just feel, I could see those beautiful things that no one was supposed to see. I examined them. I studied them. For hours. Days. I can't remember how long I stayed there amid those gorgeous places.

"School, what was that? What could that ever be to me?"

Inuyasha stopped again and looked up at the ceiling. It had to be a joke. It could not be real. How could it be real?

"There's something completely wrong about all of this."

But he had read most of the scroll and it seemed to be too late to stop.

"Within the safety of my basement I transferred my mind into his underwear. The scent of his manhood filled my body and I became giddy with delight. I felt the pressure of his penis, shrinking and growing, against the fabric of his clothes. And I yearned to kiss it. I felt the skin of his sac intermingled within the folds of his loincloth. And I could have sold my soul just to fondle it.

"And so I took my new powers into their utmost limit. It was cloth – inanimate to be sure – but if I willed it strongly enough I could just barely cause it to move. At first, you know, my strength wasn't sharp and I was exhausted. Often it took long minutes, if not hours, to effect change as small as a millimeter.

"And then the breakthrough! I brushed my eyebrows against his pubes. And the boy scratched himself a little. I kissed his penis up and down his length. I teased his tip, poking my tongue about his foreskin. And he rubbed himself. I cupped and fondled his testicles. And he adjusted himself. By the gods, he was getting aroused and I almost cried when I felt him press me closer against his flesh as he stroked himself. But alas, Kagome, those weren't my eyebrows, my lips, these hands and fingers didn't ever feel his forbidden flesh. It was the fabric of his underwear that by my power I willed to move that stimulated his almost-constant erection!

"Maybe, do you think, maybe he was feeling the loving attention and noticing the growing comfort of his clothes?

"At night, when he's unconscious of my efforts, that's when I did my work. That's when I expanded my power. Little by little, I found that I moved the clothes more easily if there was already pressure against it. If there was slack, I discovered that I could actually force his foreskin to roll back and forth: it never failed to induce an erection. Once he got fully-tented I caused the loincloth to wrap and unwrap around his exposed head. It was the only way I could pleasure him _directly_ and, if you can imagine, it often took me all night to get him to climax.

"Oh, I could have died that first time I felt his semen soaked me!

"When I awoke, I could sense its taste in my mouth, I could feel its warmth envelope my body. Its odor oozed out of my skin."

"This is the sickest, most perverted thing I've ever read! Why would that guy be writing this to Kagome?" Inuyasha yelled aloud, almost slamming the papers away. "It has to be a joke!" Suddenly, he felt so at peace, so utterly comfortable. He had been growing an erection and only then noticed it. It was strange, though, he did not recall getting aroused by what he was reading. To the contrary, it disgusted him. "Naraku!"

That name, the possibility of evil acting within the confines of that era, that was the only thing that kept his eyes on the pages, reading over the words of what he gathered to be a seriously-disturbed madman.

"I know that my school work is suffering but it doesn't matter. If tested, I can pass any examination. Now that I can transfer my mind at will I can pick up the answers even from books that are shut and kept far away. What is really, truly suffering is my personal-life. Put simply: I don't have one. Locked within my basement, the most private room of my house, I spend nearly all of my waking and sleeping hours. There's a tiny bathroom and a refrigerator I manage to keep stocked with food under my parents noses. Essentially, I don't have to leave my abode for any reason. And because my exercise is mental, what if someone were to find me in the midst of a mind transfer? What then? What would they see? A boy sleeping, that's what they would see. They could send me anywhere and I could do this. I could do this forever.

"Man is the weakest of all animals and it wasn't enough just being that creature's underwear. I needed to give all of his body all of my love. If I could just kiss every inch of his skin I would. And so I did. Naturally, I started with his erection, smothering it within the folds of his loincloth – or should I say, suckling it within my lips? Because that's what it felt like for me! I tightened the back of his shorts, rubbing it between his cheeks – or should I say, licking his buttocks like dog? I kissed his spine up his back: at last I extended my mind into his whole kimono. Up his back. Over his shoulder. Down his chest. His nipples. His tight, ticklish stomach – I noticed he laughed a little as my mind forced his kimono against his tummy.

"I was wrapped about his body like an embrace that could not be shaken off.

"But even this is not enough. There are other parts of his body that I must simply explore to their fullest! Those feet!"

Inuyasha took his feet off the rugged floor and sat cross-legged on Kagome's bed.

"And that face! Oh, to kiss those lips! Those eyes! _Those ears_! "

"What?"

"That's why I need your help, Kagome! Remember the first thing that happened that day: the moment I lay eyes upon that creature who whisked you away into the air. I know that his name is Inuyasha and that his heritage isn't entirely human. Kagome! Please, you must introduce us. I must know him. I don't care if my efforts meet disaster, if only I can feel his flesh with mine own for once. Even if only a moment. Even if just a brush of our cells, skin to skin. I'll take it, I'll take it!

"No one can love him the way I love him! I love him and every square inch of his body _because I clothe his body_! And I know if I could just hold him for real I could make him feel pleasures he cannot begin to imagine _because I know him completely_!"

"_Oh?_"

Inuyasha flew into a rage, tearing away at his clothes. From his kimono to his loincloth every article of clothing he ripped off his body. He was so terrified, so frantic that the action attracted Souta: the boy rushed into the room and found the naked half-demon atop his sister's bed, inching toward the wall, looking horrified at the floor. At the pile of his very own clothes that somehow, someway quivered as though alive, as if trying to reach and feel for him.

END


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